


Do Not Gentle (Rage, rage against the dying of the light.)

by Alexander_Slamilton



Category: Supernatural
Genre: A FUCKING NAIL?, Cas isn't in turbo hell, Endless fluff, Finale Fixit, Fix-It, Fluff, Fuck that ending, Heaven fixit, I CAN WORK WITH IT BUT??????, I Will Go Down With This Ship, M/M, Post-Finale, Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-25
Updated: 2020-11-25
Packaged: 2021-03-09 21:48:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,358
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27712961
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alexander_Slamilton/pseuds/Alexander_Slamilton
Summary: “me too.”“You too?”or: The Ending We Really Deserved.
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester
Comments: 4
Kudos: 124





	Do Not Gentle (Rage, rage against the dying of the light.)

So. So this was heaven. A breeze skipped along the tops of trees. They waved their branches in the light wind, a ‘pleased to meet you’. Dean sniffed, the air smelled clean, with just a hint of tarmac and pine. The pain from the nail was gone, the weight of his death, of leaving Sam, was gone. The sky was blue and the clouds in it were fluffy and small, not the kind that brought rain but the kind that floated along never minding anything. It seemed like the perfect kind of day, the kind of day where if he wasn’t on a job, he’d spend under the hood of his car with his sleeves rolled up and his jeans covered in oil stains. A sort of harmony where everything was singing at once in time and tune. 

The Roadhouse looked like it always had done, heaven hadn’t touched it up or anything; it was still slightly grimy, slightly run down. Well. Very run down, and very grimy. But Dean didn’t mind, he didn’t seem to mind much anymore. One thing though, there was one thing left unsaid, and he had a nagging feeling about it. Something, the only thing, he could possibly have carried into the next life was something that he had carried with him for a large part of his first one. And now, now when it was too late, he was free enough to admit it to himself. 

“Bobby?” Dean looked at the busted-up chair in front of the Roadhouse. 

“Dean.” 

They talked, Dean smiled, thinking about the family he had never got to have. His mom and dad, Ellen and Jo, and eventually hopefully not for a long time, Sam. Peace, peace settled over him for the first time in a long time. He wasn’t angry. He wasn’t a hamster on a wheel running the same circle over and over again. He was free to do whatever he wished. But how had it all come about? Heaven hadn’t ever been like this before. 

“So, Jack did all that?” Dean asked, looking out at the scenery, the beautiful mountains with the sound of a trickling brook nearby; it was so beautiful, so close to the paradise he’d always imagined. 

“Well.” Bobby paused, “Cas helped.”

Dean stopped. His stomach plummeting. That small unspoken thing that had settled in his chest woke up. It raised its head above the parapet of his heart and hooked its claws back into him. He turned to stare at Bobby, who just raised his eyebrows and took a sip of beer. The thing inside him swelled so that it felt like it would take over his whole chest. He looked at his shoes because he felt as though Bobby would see the thing if he looked him in the eyes. 

“That sounds like something Cas would do,” Dean choked out, twisting his hands around themselves. 

“So. What’re you gonna do now?” Bobby asked.

“I.” Dean thought about going for a drive. He thought about taking the Impala (who looked so pretty in the golden sun) down long windy roads and never looking back. He itched with the feeling of it. “I think… I think I’m going to find Cas.” 

“Huh.” Bobby huffed swigging his beer again, a wry sort of smile painted on his face. “It’s like that, then?”

“Yeah.” Dean said, holding his head high, his jaw set and shoulders solid. He wasn’t scared anymore, the thing inside him that was once a monster had become an old friend. “Yeah, it’s like that.” 

“Well then.” Bobby made a gesture to the car, “go find him.” 

The road was long, lined with pine trees, asphalt smooth and unbroken in front of him, the sun was a soft warm golden glow. Perfect corners and lines to throw Baby into, her wheels barely felt as though they touched the ground. Driving hadn’t felt this good for years, it had become something to get him from A to B in the end. And Dean had been tired. So tired. Now though, it felt like flying. A joy that been rekindled in his heart, for the first time in a very long time, Dean felt at home on the road. 

He drove until he saw a small dirt path leading into the trees. Something in him was pulling him that way. A tugging in his gut. And Dean being Dean couldn’t leave that feeling well enough alone. There was a very convenient lay-by right beside the entrance to the path, so Dean held his breath and pulled in. Anticipation built up in him, the same feeling as though he was standing in the queue to a rollercoaster. Not quite knowing the feeling of being on the ride but imagining the sensation of it. The desire to know how the ride felt pulled him forward into the forest. 

The trees started off sparse, the light of the sun peeking through their branches, creating patches of warm golden light. Flowers were dotted here and there, bluebells and foxgloves and snowdrops. Not that Dean knew the names of any of them. He was pretty sure he spotted deer and rabbits too. It was like walking through a Disney movie. Dean didn’t hate it though, it just felt like paradise. Like he was where he was supposed to be in that exact moment. As though all of time and had space had worked together to put him there. Which in a way they had, but, it felt like this was his choice. He had chosen to follow the path; he had chosen to pull into the layby. All the universe had given him was the opportunity to get in the queue to ride. 

The path became more winding, twisting and lurching from left to right, but it didn’t feel like it was working against him. Dean felt more that this place was supposed to only be reached by people who really wanted to find it. He could hear the sounds of waves lapping against a shore far in the distance. The path continued on with the soft scent of pine accompanying him along the way. 

Eventually, after what felt like hours of walking, Dean came to the edge of a small lake. The trees thinned and a sort of muddy beach started leading toward the shore. There were mountains surrounding the lake, gilded in soft sunlight. Water lapped at the edge of the lake a few meters ahead of him, there were boats out there in the centre, but they were too far away to be much but an afterthought. He looked slightly to his left. Sitting, on the edge of rickety looking jetty was a man in a trench coat. Dean stopped. Wondering if he should go and talk to the man, because obviously he knew who it was. 

Cas being here was very different to all the times Dean had prayed to him since he was taken by the empty. Dean had knelt on the floor of his room and spilled his guts to empty air in front of him. He’d cried and begged but no one had ever answered. There had been so many confessions but none of them had been heard by anyone else, apart from maybe his dog. Time slowed to molasses as he stood at the treeline watching. He wanted to make his feet go, but something between his brain and his legs was having connectivity issues; so, he just stood still, watching, waiting for exactly the right moment. 

Cas was sitting with a fishing rod hooked into the chair next to him; there was a cooler sat on his other side, and what might have been a book on top of it. Dean felt, all of a sudden, warm too warm. His jacket felt too tight, and his lungs felt as though they couldn’t quite take in enough air. The thing in his chest roared, as though it would climb out of him and make a terrible scene. 

“Hello, Dean.” 

Dean drew in a shuddery breath and walked forward, his legs like jelly, as though he was a tiny child taking his first steps. He wobbled across the jetty, even though the water wasn’t rough enough to rock it. 

“Cas.” 

“Take a seat,” Cas gestured to the other chair, which had only just appeared. 

“I- What? Yeah… okay,” Dean stuttered, sitting. “So.”

“So,” Cas smiled, inclining his head.

“We should probably talk, right?” 

“Probably, but we don’t have to do anything here, not if we don’t want.” Cas said.

“Do you…” Dean paused, “did you mean it?”

“You really don’t think I meant the last thing I said to you before I died?” 

“Yeah. Good point.” He chuckled nervously, running a hand through his hair, “I… uh… I thought about it. A lot. What you said, I thought about it. About you and what that might mean for me.” 

Cas watched him, eyes the colour of the still blue water below them. The slight chill in the air had made his cheeks go all rosy and pink, and the delicate golden sun had changed to a warm blush. Fluffy white clouds floated on the breeze, before they disappeared into nothing but tiny whisps of candyfloss pink. 

“And what did you conclude? 

“I… figured that I didn’t really mind if it meant having you back.”

“Hm.”

“I asked, you know,” Dean said, “I asked Jack, but he said you were needed ‘elsewhere’ or whatever, so I guess… I guess you were building this place.” 

“It did take a long time,” Cas nodded. “though, I do appreciate you asking for me.” 

“Of course, I would,” Dean tried to unscrew the cap on the bottled-up emotions that bubbled up inside. “Of course, I would,” he said again, roughly. 

“I know, Dean,” Cas said in what could only be described as a verbal pat on the knee. 

“I prayed too, not sure if you’d have got them, but…” 

“I couldn’t hear them, in order for me to get to heaven, Jack had to make me human again; my grace was gone.” 

“Oh, so, you know… you don’t know what I said?” 

“No, I thought I had said that already?”

“Yeah, you did, I just… I have no idea what I’m doing man.” He huffed, “I just need you to know that I- that…” he drew in a very shaky breath, “me too.”

“You too?” Cas tilted his head. It made Dean want to cry. Or jump off the jetty. Or something. 

“I uh… I guess… I love you too,” Dean choked, resolutely staring at one particularly fluffy cloud. 

“Oh…” Cas smiled again, “Oh. I know.” 

“You? What?” 

“I know.” 

“Are you seriously pulling a Han Solo on me right now?” Dean laughed. 

“Yes.”

“I knew getting you into pop culture was a bad move,” he grinned. 

“I find Han Solo quit endearing,” Cas said. 

“Do you?” Dean turned to look at him and found himself falling again for the lines on his face and the scruff round his cheeks. 

“Yes,” Cas’s eyes flickered over him.

“Is it his rugged good looks or his wicked sense of humour?” Dean asked, wondering if they both knew that they weren’t really talking about Han Solo.

“I think… I think it was his inherent humanity,” Cas leaned in, closer. So close, Dean could feel the puffs of his breath on his face. “How he was so very human, and how I was fascinated, and then as I watched he became something more. Brave, and kind, and clever.”

“Oh,” Dean breathed, “okay.” 

“Alright,” Cas whispered as he leaned in a kissed him. 

It was like coming home but being flung out to space all at once. Dean was floating and being grounded. Cas’s lips on his were dry and a little chapped but he didn’t care once there was a hand in his hair dragging him closer still. Their noses brushed, and Dean could feel Cas smiling. His hands finally remembered their own existence and came up to Cas’s face, cupping his cheeks and brushing a thumb over his jaw. Dean had had a few drunken tangles with guys before, but he’d never kissed any of them; it wasn’t different, and it definitely wasn’t bad. 

“Why, did you guys make a heaven where breathing is necessary?” He asked.

“We thought people would be disconcerted if they didn’t have to breathe,” Cas chuckled.

“I don’t like it,” Dean muttered as he leaned forward again. 

“Fucking finally!” 

“What the fuck? Jo?” Dean scrambled away from Cas, as he spotted the girl laughing from the other end of the jetty. 

“Joanna Harvelle if you don’t give those boys five minutes, I swear to… I swear on your grave I will-“ Ellen said, running towards them out of the trees. “Sorry, Dean, we wanted to surprise you, but..” 

“Nah, it’s all good. Cas and I just had a few things to sort out is all,” Dean stood dragging Cas with him, refusing to let go of his hand. “You guys met or?”

“Yeah we met,” Jo smirked, “we heard all about what you’ve been up to. A rusty nail? Really? Didn’t you like, help kill God or something?” 

“Joanna,” Ellen scolded. 

“It’s fine. You know. It was time I guess.” Dean said shrugging. 

“Hmm. Still can’t believe that happened.” 

“Your parents are cooking tonight, over at their place, everyone should be there. The whole gang, if Bobby can convince Rufus to be sociable for once, and if Ash gets his head out of the computer for once.” Ellen smiled, “I’m sure you know but time moves a little different up here, and there’s someone waitin’ for you there too.” 

“Someone… Sam?” 

“Got here not long ago. I guess you three are kind ‘a package deal, right?” Ellen said, “we’ll go ahead, give you guys a bit.” 

They disappeared back through the trees, as Dean waved them off. 

“There’re so many people who I thought I wouldn’t get to see again, not properly anyway, but nothin’ is gonna beat a hug from mom.” Dean sighed. 

“You get to see them all again. All of them.”

**Author's Note:**

> Shorter than my usual stuff but like I was so angry with the ending I knew I had to do something - I'll probably do something better/longer in the next few weeks but this is what I have for now. Please be easy on me, I'm doing my PhD and I'm tired and small. 
> 
> Find me on tumblr if u want: @obi-wan-kxnxbi


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